


Irrevocable

by see_addy_write



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Physical Disability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 03:10:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18274586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/see_addy_write/pseuds/see_addy_write
Summary: "Because an irrevocable part of Alex’s life was loving Michael Guerin, and he knew it always would be … and if they couldn’t figure out how to fix this, he was going to live the rest of his life dealing with phantom pain in his residual limb and in the second half of himself that would be torn away if he had to let Michael go."Post 1x10





	Irrevocable

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is my 4th RNM fic, which makes this the most i've ever written in one fandom, let alone in a week! i'm super impressed with myself, and hoping that i don't lose the momentum. feel free to visit me on tumblr at seeaddywrite to see what i'm working on next, send a prompt, or squeal with me about the show!
> 
> also, apparently i'm incapable of writing fics that don't include max. sorry not sorry? 
> 
> and, just in case: i love maria, i love michael, and i love alex. i will entertain no drama regarding the three of them or how the potential love triangle may or may not unfold & am actively avoiding fandom nonsense because it makes me cringe.
> 
> this was meant to be a much larger fic, and was supposed to cover vastly different topics, but this is what i got, so i went with it. i hope you enjoy!

Leaving the Pony to answer Kyle’s call had been a relief, even if part of him wanted to spend the entire day drowning his sorrows in a bottle of Jack. But looking at Maria had been difficult, knowing what she and Guerin had so recently been up to, and he hadn’t wanted to say or do something in his bad mood that would hurt their friendship. Maria was his oldest and closest friend; losing her to something that stupid was something Alex was completely unwilling to risk. 

But that night, alone in his cabin with only his thoughts to occupy him, Alex wondered if he shouldn’t have gone back to the garage to talk to Michael. He’d left pretty awkwardly; there was no way it hadn’t looked like him running away again, like he’d been doing on and off for ten years — albeit this time, he had a better excuse than the under-the-table sale of copper wire. But Alec had meant what he said, about wanting the chance to get to know Michael, to learn who he was, this time, rather than just how good he was in bed. It had thrown him, _hurt him_ when he’d realized Michael had been working on that ship for years, all the while planning on leaving the planet, and he hadn’t compartmentalized those feelings well. He’d already been a little raw from realizing Michael’d had a one night stand with his best friend, and that— well, that was just one more hurt than he could take. 

In all fairness to Michael, Alex had no right to be upset by the fact that he’d been with someone else. Alex has been the one to leave, the one to hurt him at the drive-in, and then again at the Pony when he insisted their world had ended with a whimper, rather than a bang. He’d brought this upon himself by pushing Michael away, time and time again. 

But now he had a chance to show the other man that he wanted to be a part of his life— all of it, including the alien stuff and the drive to go to a planet he couldn’t even remember that he didn’t understand. Talking to Maria had been a good reminder of how much he wanted that. She was right; he did feel hopeful about what the two of them could be together, if given the chance. And while it hurt to know that Michael had turned to Alex’s closest friend after he broke things off, it wasn’t a deal-breaker. Something they needed to talk about and clear the air, yes, but the end. 

Mind made up, Alex pushed himself up from the couch in his cabin and began the process of putting his prosthetic back on. It had been bugging him all day since he hadn’t had a chance to get back to the hospital and have it refitted like he was supposed to, and without the crutch, the time he could spend on his feet was more limited. 

But none of that was enough to convince him to wait until the next day to seek Michael out.

****** 

When Alex pulled up to the Airstream, Michael was sitting outside with Max. Both men had half-empty beers in their hands and were leaned forward, staring intently into the fire as if the flames held the answers to the universe. Alex got the sense he’d interrupted a conversation by the way Michael didn’t even look at him as he limped the rest of the way up the gravel drive. Max, on the other hand, met his gaze as he approached, brow creased thoughtfully. There was something in that look that felt appraising, and Alex couldn’t help but wonder what, exactly, Michael had told his brother. 

“Hey, Guerin,” he greeted with a small smile, when he was close enough that he knew he’d be heard. “And Max — I’m surprised to see you out here. I would’ve guessed the Sheriff had you busy with the hospital shooting case, after all the excitement today. Do you get out of paperwork if you wind up the hero at the end of the day?” 

“Alex,” the deputy greeted, nodding once. “Good to see you.” He took a swig of beer, and shrugged. “I got lucky with that. Our perp confessed as soon as I caught up to him, so the paperwork wasn’t bad. And Liz’s father wouldn’t believe she was all right until he saw her in person, so she had to go to the diner; she dropped me off here on the way.” 

It was all but impossible to focus on what Max was saying with Michael sitting right there, less than five feet from him, pointedly looking everywhere but at Alex. It had been like that since high school; as soon as the two of them were anywhere near each other, the rest of the world seemed to exist, and the air between them became charged with tension. Alex had long ago accepted that he would never do his clearest thinking while he was near Michael Guerin. 

Max’s words permeated the cloud of distraction eventually, though. “Liz dropped you here?” he repeated, arching one eyebrow in question. “The last time I talked to her, she was was cursing your name, and now she’s playing chauffeur?” 

There was a snort from Michael’s direction, and Max shot his brother a dirty look before answering. “She forgave me,” he said softly, like he couldn’t quite believe it himself. “We’re, uh — together now, I think.” Something calculating flashed in Max’s eyes, and his next words seemed deliberately nonchalant. “Turns out that the human and alien thing isn’t insurmountable, after all. If Liz can forgive what I did, and Noah’s still with Iz after all of this —” 

Michael glanced up sharply, interrupting however Max may have finished the sentence. The two men shared a look that made Alex wonder if the ability to talk mind-to-mind had been left off the list of their powers he had been given earlier in the day. 

“Isobel’s awake? And told her husband?” Alex opted to ignore Max’s _incredibly_ bad attempt at subtlety and concentrate on the new information he’d gleaned. “I assume that means she’s okay, then?” 

Another shared look, this one more probing on Max’s end than anything else. When he got no response from Michael, he turned back to Alex with a chagrined half-smile. “Yeah. Sorry, it’s still hard to talk about all of this so openly. But Liz found an antidote for Isobel today, and we pulled her out of the pod this morning. She’s okay, and is able to remember what happened with Rosa, now.” 

Leaning forward on one elbow, Max continued the explanation, filling in the blanks left by the story Alex’d gotten this morning and everything he’d missed while sulking in the Pony and breaking codes with Kyle. Max was as succinct as possible, detailing Liz’s theories about Isobel’s innocence, and adding his own commentary about the shooter from the hospital and the way he’d acted upon capture. It was enough to distract Alex from the real reason he was here for a few minutes; mass murdering aliens were enough to hijack the attention from anything. 

After the brief explanation, the three men fell silent. It was a lot to digest — but then again, it wasn’t. Liz was right, an alien that was able to control the minds of people who already had a neurological problem made sense. A hell of a lot more sense than Isobel Evans losing her mind and murdering someone she’d never even spoken to before, which was the only other explanation they had. 

Any other time, he would have been full of questions and theories, and if not that, he’d at least be trying to come up with a plan for tracking the killer, somehow. Valenti had already told him that Liz was in the know, and had created a serum that could apparently kill aliens … and then an antidote that could reverse it, apparently. There were still a lot of blanks to fill in on that story, including why after twenty years of secrecy, Liz Ortecho was the first person to discover the truth. But Alex hadn’t come back here to talk about the conspiracy, or serial killers, or even aliens at all. He wanted to talk to Michael about the two of them.

“Definitely sounds like something worth investigating,” Alex agreed, nodding once. “Kyle found some files from his father, all encrypted, that might have some information in them about a fourth alien. I was hoping to get Guerin to come take a look at them with me tomorrow, actually." 

Michael turned his head, expression irritatingly full of bluster as he drawled, “You’re the codebreaker, Manes. I’m sure you can handle that on your own. ” 

So that was how it was going to be, huh? Alex frowned back at the other man, shifting his weight again to try to ease the ache in what was left of his leg. His physical therapist had warned him about ten times before okaying him to drop the crutch that he shouldn’t be upright for more than eight hours at a time until he had fully adjusted, but this had seemed more important. It _was_ more important. That didn’t mean Alex wouldn’t pay for it. 

“Why don’t you take my chair?” Max suggested after a moment, and embarrassment flared, quick and irritating, in his cheeks. If someone who barely knew him could tell that he was in pain, he didn’t even want to know what he looked like. “I’m headed out anyway. I’ve got an early shift tomorrow.” 

The flash of panic in Michael’s eyes at the announcement might have made Alex laugh if it was at being left alone with anyone else, but since it wasn’t, it just made him feel sick to his stomach. “You don’t have to run off just because Alex showed up,” Guerin was telling Max, his fingers tight around the neck of his beer bottle. “I don’t run out the door any time Liz walks in, do I?” 

Max snorted, finishing off his beer and tossed it into the pile of empties between their chairs before standing. “No, but I wish you would,” he said cheerfully, an utterly besotted grin crossing his face as Alex watched in surprise. Obviously, Liz had decided to give Evans a shot. What else would make him smile like that? “Besides, I seriously doubt you two want a _chaperone_.”

The insinuation in Max’s words was clear, and Alex couldn’t resist interjecting. “I see you’ve been telling all sorts of secrets, today.” As of their last time in bed together, after the reunion, Michael hadn’t told his siblings about his relationship with Alex. He’d admitted that much when Isobel showed up uninvited. But Max clearly knew now. 

“I told you,” Michael muttered, glaring at the gravel beneath his feet. “I’m tired of secrets. But Max already knew I was in love with you, so it didn’t take much telling.”

Hearing him admit it so openly made Alex’s heart do something complicated in his chest, and he sat down heavily in the newly-vacated lawnchair. The word ‘love’ coming from Guerin’s mouth was incredible, and he wanted to bask in it, but the past tense made him anxious. He’d done the same thing, he knew, when confronting Michael about his heritage, but _fuck_. Was it just past tense? For either of them? 

“Besides, it’s all ancient history now, isn’t it? It’s not like there’s anything to hide anymore,” Michael continued, his voice hard. In that moment, Alex’s chest hurt more than the ache in his hip and leg from standing too long, and he sucked in a gulp of air. Guerin wasn’t pulling his punches tonight, that was for certain — but oddly enough, Alex was reassured. Michael got nasty when he was hurting as a defense mechanism. If he hadn’t started lashing out, then Alex would have started to worry. As it was, Alex thought they still stood a chance.

Max cleared his throat, looking decidedly uncomfortable, and clapped his brother on the shoulder. There was another moment of _something_ passing between them, and damn it, Alex was getting an answer about the telepathy thing at some point tonight. 

It was strange to see his on-and-off again lover acting this way with Max. They’d been close in high school, of course, but since then, anytime Evans came up, Michael had just gotten pissed off. They certainly hadn’t seemed to be getting along the night of the reunion, or at the drive-in, the night things went to hell. Apparently, nearly losing their sister had been enough to remind them of what mattered. . . or maybe, the weight of their terrible secrets were no longer strangling them. But either way, it was still hard to wrap his head around after all this time. 

A moment later, Max was passing Alex on the way to his Jeep. He paused in front of him for a moment, as if considering something, then said quietly, “Go easy on him,” before continuing on his way. The crunch of his footsteps and the crackle of the fire was the only noise for a while, then, and Alex took the opportunity to lean down and shift the sleeve that fit into his prosthetic to try to ease the soreness.

When Alex looked back up, Michael’s eyes were on him, his mouth in a thin, tense line. Smiling self-deprecatingly, Alex shrugged a little. “It’s been slipping around since I got the okay to ditch the cane,” he admitted. “I was supposed to go back to have everything refitted, but I haven’t had the time.” 

Another long silence, then: “You should go home and take it off, then.”

_Calm,_ Alex reminded himself. _Calm, and patient. And maybe a little stubborn._

“Or,” he started, biting at his lower lip habitually before catching himself. “You could accept my apology for running off today after you showed me your bucker, and then I could just stay here.” 

The words didn’t have the impact he was hoping for. Guerin’s expression flickered from mostly impassive to angry as he threw his arms up in the air. “Jesus Christ, Manes, what do you _want_ from me?” he demanded, shoving himself out of the lawn chair and stalking toward Alex in a hip-rolling gait that made Alex’s mouth go inappropriately dry. 

“We get together in high school, you enlist and give me some big speech about how we can’t make it work. Ten years later, you show up at the reunion, kiss me, and I think, ‘okay. We were kids before. Maybe we can work it out now.’ But you take it all back the next day, I’m a fucking idiot.” There was no time to interject, even if Alex had something to say that would change what Michael was upset about, before he continued. 

“Then you show up here again, talking like I have a chance in hell, and you actually stay the night and go out with me, and I’m so fucking sure that this time, it’s going to work, you know? That you’re finally ready to stop making excuses and be with me. And then one word from daddy at the drive-in and it’s just . . . over.” Michael paced circles around Alex’s chair as he ranted, like he was physically unable to keep still with the force of what he was feeling. Alex’s gaze was locked on him the whole time, lips pressed together to keep them from trembling. But he didn’t interrupt. 

“You’d think after all that, I would’ve finally bought a clue, huh?” Michael continued, his voice loud enough that had anyone been in the garage next door, they would definitely have been able to hear. “Especially after your little speech in the Pony! But no, I’m too fucking stupid for that. Instead, when you show up here today, claiming to want to know about who I am, I buy it. I tell you things I’ve never even shown Max and Isobel, I crack like an egg when you ask, and you still run out the door with some lame excuse, and I’m — fuck, Alex. I can’t keep doing this! You’re _killing_ me. Don’t you get that?” 

Alex sat very, very still in the wake of Michael’s outburst, still staring at the man he loved as he tried not to give into the feeling of desolation that was creeping in on him. In the face of all of that, he had no idea what he could even say — he hadn’t realized that Michael was still so angry with him, especially for the things that had happened nearly ten years ago. How could they overcome all of that, if Michael hadn’t let go of it for a decade? 

“I —” Alex’s jaw worked, and he swallowed, glancing down, away from the intensity of Michael’s eyes. “I needed some time to process, Guerin. Today, I mean.” There was no way they’d be able to cover the rest of it tonight, so Alex addressed the most recent problem, hoping that would be enough to convince Michael that he was serious. 

“You’d basically just told me you hooked up with _Maria_ , and then followed it up with ‘hey, I hate it on this planet so much that I’m trying to leave forever.’ After I said that I loved you! Did you really think I could just swallow all of that without batting an eye? I’m not a robot, Guerin! _It hurt_!” 

The infinitesimal flinch at the sound of Maria’s name was satisfying, in a decidedly petty, selfish way. Alex buried the feeling, and opened his mouth to speak again, but Michael cut him off, his expression less angry and more guilty, now. “I never said I wanted to leave forever,” he muttered, apparently fascinated by the toes of his scuffed boots. “That’s what you assumed. I want to know where I come from, Alex. I want to be able to make that ship work, and go back to our home planet and find out who I am, and maybe find out what it’s like to have a real family. But my home… home is here. With you.” 

Blinking back tears that made absolutely no goddamn sense, Alex just stared at Michael after the explanation, his breath trembly and short as he struggled with the emotions swelling in his chest. With his father and in the military, he’d always been so good at hiding the way he felt — at hiding weakness or fear and broadcasting confidence and fury. With Guerin, though, his insides were constantly splayed open for everyone to see. 

“And I didn’t sleep with Maria to hurt you,” Michael continued bluntly, and there was a plea in his eyes for Alex to believe him. “I was drunk. I was — look, it was right after we talked at the Pony, and I was pretty sure you’d really had enough, okay? And Max made me think that this healer we went to see actually might have been one of us, and it was all a hoax. It got to me. I didn’t want to let it, any of it, but it did, and I made stupid decision. Just like Maria did. She was upset about her mom and wanted a distraction, and the two of us are good at walking in on each other at just the right moment. We’re friends. I care about her. But I’m not in love with her.” Michael swallowed, running his good hand through his hair. “Not like I am with you.” 

They both lapsed into a heavy silence, and it seemed like that entire evening had happened in fits and spurts, paused over and over again by these moments so full of emotion that there was no room left for words, when all Alex could do was look at Michael and wish that things were different, that they hadn’t spent the better part of ten years hurting each other and leaving wounds that got reopened, time after time. Because an irrevocable part of Alex’s life was loving Michael Guerin, and he knew it always would be … and if they couldn’t figure out how to fix this, he was going to live the rest of his life dealing with phantom pain in his residual limb, and in the second half of himself that would be torn away if he had to let Michael go. 

It was his turn to talk now, and God, what could he even say that could possibly match that? How was he supposed to think or speak coherently with the truth of Michael’s feelings running on repeat through his head? Alex inhaled raggedly in an effort to compose himself , then promised, “I was always going to come back, after I left today. And every time before, I was always going to come back. I didn’t always know it — but I’ve never been able to stay away. And I’m tired of trying, of fighting what I want. God, Guerin, I’m so fucking tired of it.” 

Frustration mounted in Michael’s body, evident in the bunch of his shoulders. He hadn’t heard what he wanted, yet — Alex could understand that. 

“So what _do_ you want, Alex?” he demanded. “To be _friends_?" The word was practically dripping with scorn. "To know that I’m not some serial killer?” With every question, the other man took another step toward Alex’s chair, until he was close enough that it would take next to nothing to reach out and touch him. Electricity crackled through the air between them, warming Alex all over and making him feel light-headed, as it always did when Michael stood too close. 

“Or do you want me?” The last, hoarse question was right in Alex’s ear as Michael leaned over him, intense and mind-numbingly gorgeous even as he tried to hide the desperate hope in his eyes. 

Alex was done trying to contain himself. He gripped the armrests of the lawn chair and pushed himself up, meaning to go in for a kiss, but instead stumbled forward, off-balance, before he’d made it all the way. Shit, he was going to eat shit like he hadn’t in months, in front of _Michael_ of all people, and — 

He never hit the ground. 

A strong, warm arm caught him around the waist on his weak side, keeping him upright. As usual, when he really need him, Michael was there, unquestioningly. 

“You good?” 

Alex snapped out of embarrassed haze and nodded once before throwing all caution to the wind. He turned into the warm body at his side without any hesitation and crushed their chests together, letting Michael’s strength support his weight, and then, without waiting to see what the reaction would be, he tilted his head and kissed him. 

For a terrifyingly long second, Michael didn’t respond. He was still as stone beneath Alex’s mouth, and that, more than any harsh word or snapped comment, scared him. But it passed, thank fuck, and their usual fire took them over. The two of them had never really done gentle, so it was harsh and biting, lips and teeth and tongues meeting and clashing hard enough to bruise. There was an added desperation today on both ends; both men were trying to keep the other there, remind how good things could be between them, for two vastly different reasons. 

A big, callused hand slid from Alex’s neck to the small of his back, igniting a path of heat along his spine as it urged him closer. His own hands gripped at Michael’s shoulders, taking fistfuls of his t-shirt and gripping them like a lifeline as he licked deeper into the kiss, his entire body screaming for the man in his arms. Michael moaned at the intrusion, yanking Alex closer to him. 

The shift in his weight from his good leg to his prosthetic was shockingly painful, and as close as they were, there was no hiding the full-body wince and the nearly-smothered groan. Michael drew back sharply, one hand staying at the small of Alex’s back to keep him upright. “What is it? Did I —” 

“Not your fault,” Alex interrupted firmly, staunchly ignoring the ache in his residual limb. “I’ve been using the damn thing too long today, and I just forgot.” This was not the way he wanted the night to end, not by a long shot, but he knew he needed to sit down again, at the very least. “I want to stand here kissing you for the next hour, at least, but this thing hurts like hell right now,” he admitted. “And I’m probably going to make a fool out of myself if I don’t get off of it pretty soon.” 

Alex was pretty sure Michael seemed pleased by the promise that he wanted to kiss him for much longer than they’d gotten a chance for, but concern was most easily read in his body language. “I really don’t want to leave, though. Could we maybe just …?” Alex looked toward the trailer hopefully, not quite at a point where he could comfortably invite himself to spend the night. 

“You should’ve said something before you couldn’t even stand,” Guerin said with a good-natured roll of his eyes, most of the earlier tension dissolved with their kiss. “But yeah, of course we can in — come on.” The scolding was one Alex had gotten before from plenty of doctors, nurses, and therapists, but it meant a hell of a lot more coming from Guerin. Maybe next time he’d even think about admitting when he was getting tired … maybe. 

When it came to his leg and new physical limitations, Alex had learned to let go of pride and ask for assistance. He’d had to, in the hospital right after the surgery — when the option was either asking for help to get to the bathroom or pissing in a bedpan, it became a matter of which would let him escape with the least amount of damage to his pride. 

In this case, since it was either stumble his way to the trailer and definitely fall up the stairs, or if he was really unlucky, fall before he even got there, Alex figured he was better off to admit that he’d been an idiot and pushed himself too far, today. “Can you help? I, uh - I’m not in a hurry to put all my weight back on that socket, to be honest.” 

The small amount of space that had grown between them while they talked disappeared, and Alex leaned gratefully into the broad expanse of chest in front of him. “Help how?” Michael asked roughly, obviously just as affected by Alex’s nearness as the reverse. That, at least, was gratifying, even if Alex couldn’t feel less sexy at the moment. “And are you sure you wouldn’t be better off at your own place? I -- I could come with you, if you want.” 

The offer sounded almost too good to be true, and Alex was hesitant to accept. He knew he wasn’t leaving without Michael, because who knew if he’d be able to get the same amount of honesty from him again? But the lure of his cabin was a strong one, as was the idea of access to the heating pad he kept for days like this, and not having to navigate the tiny, cramped space of the trailer. 

“And you’re okay with that?” he clarified, scrutinizing Michael’s face to make sure this wasn’t another way to get out of the conversation they needed to have. “Staying at my place?” 

Michael had never been to the cabin before. He hadn’t seen the grab bars in the shower, or the rails by his bed to make sure he could get to his crutches or prosthetic independently. Alex hadn’t admitted that he was living in Valenti’s old cabin, or that there was a secret bunker under it that had, until recently, contained a piece of the spaceship Michael was trying to rebuild. Hell, Alex was pretty sure Michael didn’t even know that he didn’t cook and only kept microwaved meals in his freezer. And opening that part of his life to the other man was frightening, something that made Alex feel off balance and vulnerable — but he’d invaded all of Michael’s walls and uncovered all of his secrets, today, so it seemed only fair to allow him to do the same. 

And besides, if they were going to manage to make this thing between them last, they needed to have fewer secrets. Risks led to rewards, and Alex was tired of playing it safe with Michael. It wasn’t doing anything but hurting both of them. 

"Yeah.” Michael’s voice was still low, and the heat in his gaze was going to drive Alex to distraction if they didn’t get some distance, soon. “I should probably grab some clothes or something, and let Isobel know where I am, but —” He shrugged, visibly hesitating before adding, “If I’m with you, I don’t really care where we are. As long as you’re still there the next morning.” 

The words warmed him from the inside out, and Alex couldn’t help the impossibly fond smile that spread over his face. Because that’s what a relationship was, in his book. Wanting to be where the other person was. Waking up together. Laughing together. Being happy so long as the other person was there. In a way, Michael’s careful, nervous words meant almost as much to Alex as the declaration of love. 

Careful of his leg, Alex leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss to Michael’s lips, trying to impart everything he felt for the man into the small, affectionate gesture. It wasn’t enough — after having the bravery to say it first, Guerin deserved to hear Alex say that he loved him to, and had for at least the last ten years. He also deserved an apology, for all the shitty choices Alex had made since coming back to Roswell. Maybe Alex even deserved a few ‘sorry’s of his own, especially for what had happened with Maria. 

But for the first time since they’d met, there was time for all of that later. Alex refused to rush anymore, to feel like anything he didn’t say would remain lost in his mind forever, because when he woke up the next morning and rolled over, Michael would be there. And the day after that, and the day after that. They were going to make this work, and if he had to keep blackmailing his father and hunting rogue aliens to do it, Alex could. 

Because some things were worth fighting for, and Michael Guerin was at the top of the list. 

“C’mon, Guerin,” Alex ordered, grabbing Michael’s hand to show him where to offer support so he wouldn’t end up on his ass in the dirt. “Let’s go home.” 


End file.
